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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24086488">january 31, 438</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>the hand you reach out is empty (as is mine) [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Edward Nigma (Mentioned), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Reformed Harvey Dent, Stupid Gay Bitches</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:00:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,861</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24086488</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>some external forces require bruce to come clean a little sooner than he would have liked-- not that he didn't intend on being honest eventually.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harvey Dent/Bruce Wayne</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>the hand you reach out is empty (as is mine) [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/965484</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>january 31, 438</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Do you ever get a text that causes you to almost die on the spot? It’s a terrible, rattling feeling. That is how Bruce Wayne feels every single time he receives any text from the number that is <em>still</em> in his phone as “the riddler.” It probably always will be , like how he will probably always slip up and call Edward Nigma -- brilliant robotic engineer and best-selling author -- by the name of his vicious criminal counterpart , the Riddler. Habits are hard to get out of. Still, the simple text read: <em>TELL HARVEY. NOW. OR I WILL. GETTING SICK OF GAMES.</em></p><p>The text had left him shaking, sick to his stomach and angry. He paid for Nigma’s silence! He <em>had been paying</em> for the past year, since the first threat of spilling Batman’s true identity to the public. What more could this man want from him? What could have happened to have made him have such a change of heart? Regardless of motives, he knows if Nigma is anything, he’s always a man of his word. This is no idle threat. Bruce sends a text of his own, to Harvey: <em>Hey bro, we need to talk. Preferably soon?</em></p><p>❦❦❦</p><p>Do you ever get a text that causes you to almost die on the spot? It’s a terrible, rattling feeling. That is how Harvey Dent feels as he glances down at his phone after packing up his things to leave his little office. His brows furrowed as he typed out a quick response to “bruce 💖”: <em>ok, urs in fifteen? just finished bit of a case.</em></p><p>With that, he headed out of the building, and made his way over to Bruce's home, where he assumed the man would want to meet. Still in business attire, he stood on Bruce's doorstep, giving a knock or two in warning before simply letting himself in. After knowing this man for almost his whole life, he knows where the key's at. He just sort of wandered in, loosening his tie and making himself at home, looking around occasionally for his friend. Harvey called out, “Bruce? You there, man? everything okay?”</p><p>Ominous and needlessly edgy, Bruce was lurking in the shadows of his main parlor, gazing out at the moonlit property expanding out in front of him. He turns to Harvey when he hears him enter the room, but only greets him with a forlorn sigh. The billionaire then jumps over the back of the couch and sits down, patting beside him to signal that his friend should sit down as well. When they were both settled in, Bruce sighed again. This was hard to say. How would Harvey take it? He knew the man harbored (completely rational) resentment towards Batman.</p><p>“Now, please refrain from punching me when I say this, but I am Batman.” He half expected Harvey to punch him still, and he wouldn’t blame the man if he did! That would be a completely rational reaction, as would be laughing and not believing him. The waiting was what killed Bruce, fingers dug into the arm of the couch with the anxiety of anticipation.</p><p>Harvey blinked repeatedly at the comment, having curled up rather comfortably on the couch, idly fussing with his tie. His movements stilled and then stopped entirely when he heard that phrase, however, and for a moment or two he just glanced over to Bruce, almost curiously, before the right side of his lips curled into a smile. In a few moments he was laughing, shifting in his seat so he was fully facing Bruce, arm running along the back of the couch. The laughter eventually quieted and then stopped completely when he realized the other didn't seem to find the situation very funny. His expression seemed to sober then, at least slightly.</p><p>“Yeah, and I'm the queen of England. If you cut out the cryptic stuff, I'll order us takeout. fair?” He still seemed to be in a good mood, and clearly didn't believe Bruce, but something shifted a bit in his eyes at the mere <em>concept</em> of Bruce being Batman, a hint of what was likely to come</p><p>“No, Harv,” -- His hand that wasn’t murdering the sofa rested on Harvey’s -- “I’m serious. I’m telling you this because I trust you and I want you to hear this from me so I can explain myself … and I‘ll be honest with you , the r-… <em>Edward</em> is not the person I want to tell you such a secret, and he would have told you if I didn’t.”</p><p>He isn’t looking at Harvey, too fearful of what reaction would come. He was deadly serious about this, though… it seemed foolish, at part , for this to be the thing to get him so scared. Bruce figured you couldn’t beat the shit out of abandonment issues when they became an issue, unlike his usual foes. “I’m sorry for keeping this from you for so long? I’m sure you understand that you weren’t in the… best position… to take this information well for quite a while.”</p><p>Dent’s brows furrowed, and for a moment or two he was silent, still, looking at Bruce as if this was the first time he had met the man. He didn't move his hand away. but he made no attempt to reach for it either, despite the fact that physical affection hadn't been hard to come by between the two of them over the past few months. When he finally did speak, his voice was steely, his own free hand dug into his own leg, as if in an attempt to ground himself somehow.</p><p>“Okay.” A deep exhale. A deep inhale. Breathing is healthy! Breathing is good. Through gritted teeth: “Okay. Explain yourself, then.”</p><p>He is doing breathing exercises in his seat, and after a moment or two of consideration, he responds to one of Bruce's last few statements; ire was now clear in his voice that hadn't been there previously. He practically spat his next few words. “We weren't in the best position to take that information because we were in <em>a</em> <em>fucking asylum where no one ever gets better</em>.”</p><p>Instinctually, Bruce gets defensive, drawing his hand back to himself as if the touch now stung. With some notable degree of anger, he snaps back: “Harvey , I was doing what I thought was best, not for you -- oh , holy fuck , how I <em>wish</em> I had had that luxury -- but for the people who were being killed by your actions. Need I remind you, Harvey, that you were <em>killing people</em>? What did you expect me to do? Watch them die? I had to make some hard choices.” After this, Bruce just sighs. It's heavy and sad and full of grief. When he speaks again, after a good few seconds of silence, he sounds exhausted, subdued. He doesn't want to fight over this.</p><p>“I would have helped if I knew how ... seeing you suffering as you were was worse than dying. It was grieving someone who was still alive. I had lost <em>everyone</em>, Harvey. I was – I am -- just trying to cope. Trying to make this city safer. Trying to stop anyone else from falling into situations that created people,” -- Bruce nearly says <em>like you</em>, but catches himself. He is speaking to a friend. “That endanger themselves and others. And Arkham was terrible, truly -- but it was the only place in the city. It was the only place at all. And believe it or not, but I have put <em>millions</em> into trying to improve that shithole. I'm trying, Harvey. I've been trying. I care about you ... I care about you <em>a lot</em>. It just ... it's not all obvious from the outside. okay?”</p><p>“We wouldn't have been killing people if <em>someone</em> had sat us down and showed us how to get help!” Harvey cringes, and for a moment he looks so very frustrated, so very small, so very confused and afraid and hurt. He takes a deep breath, continues with more fervor, more fuel added to the flames, “I was -- am -- mentally ill, you <em>god damned asshole</em>. You're fucking loaded, Bruce; if you had enough money to parade around downtown in tights, punching people with <em>genuine issues</em>, then you had enough money to start your own fucking facility and help people yourself. Or did you just want an excuse to run around and play the good guy to stroke your ego rather than making actual change in the city you care <em>so</em> much about?”</p><p>He pauses, tries to focus on his breathing again, tries to get his thoughts in order. “While you were thinking you had lost everyone, I was in Arkham, thinking about how there was always <em>one man</em> who believed in me. One man who thought I could do better, be better. who had faith in me when I didn't have faith in myself. One man I would try to get out for. Try to work harder for,” -- his expression hardens, his words building up to a crescendo of anger, of spite, of sadness and regret: “…and it turned out to be the same man who put me there in the first place.”</p><p>Bruce sits there in stunned silence for a good minute, processing all of that. It was a lot to take in! it really was, and when Harvey was done with his rant, Bruce smiled a little. It was clearly forced, but it was there nonetheless. “Uh ... thank you for your feedback. While I politely disagree with your ... <em>assessment</em> of my reasons for what I did, I get why you think that way. I'm not pushing that anymore. I'm ... let's just ... move away from that. You're more important to me than he is, if I'm being honest. I hadn't really realized, I guess, that I could start my own facility, though I have done a lot of work to get Arkham actually beneficial now. I'd visited you there once – I don't know if you recall? – and... well, I figured it was time for change on that front.”</p><p>He sighs, and then furrows his brows, taking a moment to just think again. Bruce looks as if he's really concentrating. He needs to appeal to Harvey; he needs to prove himself again. “Maybe as someone who's been through both sides of the system, you could uh ... help me figure out what I can help with next? You don't have to – and I don't expect you to – trust me or really ... I don't know, be my best friend or anything. That's a major breach of trust and I'm not pushing any personal expectations on you, but I think my biggest issue limiting my ability to help is that I just don't know what I'm doing. I can't fix problems that I don't know exist, but I'd love to help, so there isn't a repeat of this incident, so you don't have to risk going through all of that again.”</p><p>It was the ‘<em>you’re more important to me than he is</em>’ that really got to Harvey, and before he realized it, he had moved his way across the couch and buried the right side of his face into Bruce’s neck, pulling the man into a bear hug. He seemed to relax after the movement, eyes fluttering shut. For a moment after, Bruce was stunned, surprised Harvey had hugged him, and then he just melted into it. He was holding Harvey again, after that fight, and it seemed different. He didn’t know how, he didn’t know why, but this tight hug was perhaps the best thing to ever happen to Bruce, ever, in his life.</p><p>For a few moments, Harvey just <em>breathed</em>. The tension and stress that had been in his shoulders seemed to melt away at the familiarity. He had needed a hug, more than he would have cared to admit, and he rested in that position as he spoke. His voice was a little muffled, but he otherwise seemed extremely comfortable.</p><p>“I remember you visiting.” There’s a soft little laugh, bitter. “Remember almost wishing you hadn’t, when I finally got control of myself.” He moves closer, if that were even possible at this point. Softly: “didn’t want you seeing me like that.”</p><p>He listens Bruce’s offer, notably quiet after his own large outburst, and nods eventually, slowly, hesitantly. “Yeah. That’d be… yeah.” He nods again, movement slightly restricted by his current position. “That’d be good. You have the ability to really help people.” He pulls back a little, so he can look Bruce in the eyes, offer a small, tired smile. “Just have to focus on the right things.”</p><p>“Hey, hey, Harvey, I’m not ever going to judge you for things you can’t control. Okay? We’ve been friends far too long for seeing you like that to do anything but motivate me to make sure you have resources to get better.” Bruce pulls him closer, their foreheads pressing together, and he smiles. Like Harvey’s, it’s tired and subtle, but it’s so very genuine. “I love you, man. Don’t forget that. Together, we can fix this city. But I can’t do this without you, okay?”</p><p>Harv seemed genuinely comforted, genuinely content, and he nodded at Bruce 's words, leaning into his touch as much as he possibly could without it seeming <em>too</em> gay. The smile widened slightly, grew a bit brighter. He's still close to his friend, so very close, the two of them effectively just a tangle of long limbs on Bruce's couch by this point, haphazardly arranged. He doesn't mind a bit. For a moment or two his eyes fluttered closed, his breathing evening out, simply basking in the warmth and the reassurance. He opens his eyes, eventually, and speaks.</p><p>“Okay,” and then, softer: “Thanks. I uh – it really means a lot.” There's a shuttering little exhale, his arms still loosely around Bruce at this point. He smiles, then, for real – a wide, warm, blindingly-genuine thing. Something in his heart aches at Bruce's words, but not uncomfortably. “Love you too. Lots.”</p><p>It is a startlingly true admission, one that comes out naturally, one he makes no attempt to backpedal from. He sees no need to, and scoots a little closer, if it were even possible by this point. He gives a soft little laugh. “And you're not going to need to do it without me, Bruce. I'm not going anywhere. We're going to fix things. <em>Together</em>.”</p><p>There's a pause from the billionaire. Bruce enjoys the contact, the closeness that is so very rare for him today. That great big mansion of his felt a lot more like a home with Harvey beside him. He rested his head on the other’s shoulder, just consigning himself to the cuddling. This continues for several minutes, before Bruce bolts upright.</p><p>“… Did I ask you out a moment ago? What I’d said was worded oddly, I realize now, and I just -- if it came off like that , it wasn't <em>intentional</em>, but I -- oh , god , I don't mean that as if it's a bad thing -- the idea of -- I mean , I'm not opposed, but that wasn't my intent? We're best friends, and I was worried because you said I love you without a ‘bro’ or ‘dude,’ and you've never done that before?”</p><p>There’s a rattling sigh; he's embarrassed. This shows all too clearly on his fair cheeks, flushed a bright red. This is a mess.</p><p>Harvey jumped at the sudden movement, seeming genuinely startled by how quickly Bruce had shifted, but settles himself a little against the back of the couch once more as he looked over to his friend, considered the situation as a whole. He listened to his friend’s words carefully, and then sat there a few moments later as if fully considering them before he spoke. There’s a slight smile on his lips, as if he finds the situation ironic in some regard.</p><p>“What, can I not tell a bro I love him without it being gay?” There’s a <em>look</em>, the smile widens slightly but grows a bit more sheepish. He digresses: “you were ... <em>worried</em> because I said I loved you? I do, man. you’ve been my best friend for <em>forever</em>. I uh, I didn’t take it as you asking me out, though, honestly.” There’s a shrug, it’s feeble.</p><p>“I’d be down for whatever you wanted, though. I trust you, bro. A lot. I’d just worry about -– if anything did happen, I mean -– about us not being as close as we are now. Wouldn’t want to lose what we’ve got going on for the sake of one night, yeah? Or like - seven dinner dates.” Harvey hums a bit, makes a movement that would be furrowing his brows if the left side of his face had a brow. “I wouldn’t be opposed either, don’t get me wrong. Like, <em>really</em> not opposed.” A ghost of a laugh rises to his lips. “And the newspapers already seem to think we’re a thing, but your health and comfort levels come before any other kind of relationship does.”</p><p>“I mean. nothing has to change. Becoming my boyfriend doesn’t mean you have to give up being my best friend, and you’ll always be that first.” There’s a soft laugh of his own, and Bruce is relaxing again, leaning back into the tangle of limbs they’ve become. “And honestly? it’s bold of you to assume a breakup –- <em>if</em> there was a breakup -– would stop us from being friends, dude. We made it through you being a high-profile killer <em>and</em> me being a vigilante.”</p><p>“Oh.” His tone is soft, almost wondering for a moment or two as he watches Bruce relax back into his touch, nods slightly at the man's words. A wry smile rose to his lips at the reminder of his previous… occupation… and he gave a shrug. “I wouldn't say high profile. Only three people came into my office last week to see if I really existed.”</p><p>And they laughed together at this, soft quiet chuckles to break the tenseness of the air in the room. Afterward, when going to cradle Harvey’s face, Bruce touches the left side. His touch was light and hesitant and so very unsure – what if this hurt Harvey? Bruce would hate himself if he did. Still yet, his thumb delicately resting on Dent’s cheekbone. This man looks absolutely enamored with the sight in front of him.</p><p>“So ... if <em>you</em> don’t mind, and <em>I</em> don’t mind – let’s just try this? Can… can we kiss?”</p><p>There's a jump at Bruce's sudden touch, just a natural reaction to the feeling. Harvey couldn't remember a time when anyone else had touched this side of his face, couldn't remember if anyone even had, but he leans into it after a moment or two, the area no longer sore, a quiet reassurance.</p><p>“Yeah.” Harvey releases a shuddering, nervous exhale, and then a smile, so very fragile and so very true. “Yeah, 'course.” His arms settled over Bruce's shoulders properly, gently tugging the man a bit closer before leaning in for a kiss, tender and gentle and as hesitant as the hand at his cheek. A hand found its way into the hair at the base of Bruce's neck, toying gently with it for a bit, even after Harvey had pulled away. He was worried in some small way that he would overstay his welcome. He feared that Bruce would realize what he was touching, feel the scar tissue below his fingers, sense damaged goods, come to his senses, and storm out, but no such action came. Forehead pressed against the other's, he smiled again, this one almost blinding, right against Bruce's lips. <em>I trust you</em>, the movement said, <em>more than I've trusted anyone, in my life</em>.</p><p>Bruce leaned away, only far enough that he could see Harvey's smile. Despite being so often deadpan, there was no way for him to not smile back with all the same energy. Oh, he felt so foolishly in love. His head was swimming, drowning in the feeling of having Harvey close after having barely had him at all for the past -- how long had it been since the accident, again? He exhales through his nose, not nervous but shuddering nonetheless; his heart was pounding. Bruce's thumb still idly ran over Dent's cheek, feeling the odd texture of acid-scarred skin. Then, he leaned in again, stealing another kiss that lingered a few seconds longer than the first. When this kiss broke, he rested his forehead against the other man's. In a heavy exhale, Wayne manages out: “Thank you. for ... that.”</p><p>“You don’t need to thank me.” There’s a beat of pause, his hands still idly carding through Bruce’s hair. “I liked it--” there’s a soft little exhale, an almost-laugh, soft and giddy and light, “I should be thanking you, really. for finally leaving off the ‘no homo’. I was starting to think you were just straight, man.” He shakes his head just a bit, almost in wonderment, clearly fond, before leaning into Bruce’s touch just a bit more. It was a silent reassurance.</p><p>Bruce closes his eyes for a moment. “And I take it then, that that's a yes to trying <em>us?</em> Are we boyfriends now?” He feels like a schoolchild asking this, middle-school words and middle-school nerves, foolish and naive even if true. He was so very inexperienced with relationships, but he knew one thing almost with 100% certainty. He loved Harvey, and he wasn't losing him again.</p><p>“Trying <em>us</em> sounds good.” Harvey settles in just a bit closer, closer into their little tangle of limbs, closer to the man he had wanted to be like this with for what felt like years. “Boyfriends…” He states it almost hesitantly, as if testing the concept out, before offering Bruce yet another smile. He leans in for another kiss, as well, something short and simple, almost to punctuate the word. “Boyfriends sounds good, too.” He took a moment or two to just look at Bruce, to consider how long he had known the man before him, how he had spent so many years by his side, how he hoped to spend the rest of them the same way. Dent let out a soft little sigh, content.</p><p>A comfortable silence settles between them after that, and Bruce wants the moment to last forever. After perhaps minutes there, intertwined with Harvey, he spoke, and his voice was soft and gentle as if he was afraid of breaking the silence. “Now that we've ... settled things, you mentioned food earlier? We can call in Uber Eats , Alfred can bring it to us here, we don't even have to move… because honestly, I'm quite comfortable.” He's fishing out his phone, which had been in his back pocket before falling back into the crevice of the couch. It was a pain, and required a lot of writhing around, but the phone was retrieved. With his phone out and the app up, Bruce returns to his position cuddled up with Harvey. It takes him a bit to get comfortable again, but then he passes the phone to Harv and rests his head on his boyfriend's shoulder. Boyfriend. What a nice word. “What're you in the mood for? Anything you want, from anywhere that does takeout. I'm paying.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>we did it boys, homophobia is no more.. real talk i do wanna pick this series up again. thank you for reading this! it was a collaboration with my lovely girlfriend. find her works over on her account, mellitas!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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